


sweetest we've ever been

by gaydeviants



Series: sweet#hart [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Connor, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hank in glasses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydeviants/pseuds/gaydeviants
Summary: Connor sees Hank wearing glasses for the first time, which prompts a spontaneous confession.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: sweet#hart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029792
Comments: 22
Kudos: 225





	sweetest we've ever been

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyyyyyy! this originally started as a thread on twitter, and now im posting it here. mo suggested hank wearing glasses and connor losing his shit, and this kinda just got away from me. i hope u like it!!! title from yet another closure in moscow song, whos surprised?

For the first time in over a week, Hank and Connor get off work on time. They grab their things and make a beeline for the door, not stopping to chat with anyone. Hank looks tired, and Connor offers to drive. Hank tosses his keys to Connor without a word and sinks gratefully into the passenger seat.

“Thanks, Con.”

The nickname makes Connor’s internal fans kick on, a pleased flush racing through his circuitry. 

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Connor replies. Hank shoots him a playful glare.

“Please, not when we’re off the clock.” Connor laughs, pulling the car out of the precinct parking lot and onto the road, extra careful as a light dusting of snow begins to fall. They’re coming up on Connor’s first Christmas, as a deviant and in general, and every little seasonal thing fills him with excitement. 

They’re quiet on the drive home, decompressing after a long day. Connor can’t help but steal glances at Hank out of the corner of his eye. He finds himself doing that more and more lately. Buried deep within his many subprocesses is the reason why, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to face that quite yet.

Connor pulls into Hank’s driveway a bit later ( _their driveway,_ he has to remind himself) and they exit the car together. Hank unlocks the front door and Sumo comes lumbering out, flopping down in the fresh snow and rolling around. Hank chuckles.

“Great. That’s gonna be a mess.” Connor just smiles. 

They finally manage to herd Sumo inside, and Connor walks down the hall, getting a towel from the bathroom to dry the massive dog. Sumo shakes his fur out before he manages to get there, though, making both men sputter and laugh.

“Fuckin’ dog,” Hank says, fondness evident in his tone. Sumo walks away from them and flops down in his bed, leaving Connor holding the now useless towel. Connor shrugs, draping it over the back of the sofa to put away later. A month ago he would have insisted on folding it and putting back in its proper place, but Hank has slowly helped him to relax a bit.

“Are you hungry?” Connor asks, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. He ruffles a hand through his hair, shaking the melting snow out of his dark locks. It leaves his hair disheveled and messy, and when he doesn’t get a reply from Hank he turns to look at him.

Hank is staring at him, something unreadable in his eyes. “Hank?” Connor asks, nervously smoothing his hair back down. Hank shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor, a faint flush on his cheeks.

“Uh, yeah,” Hank says. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Connor lights up, excited. He and Hank have taken to cooking together on nights when they have the time, and Connor has to admit it’s one of his favorite parts of the day. It feels… domestic. It’s a good way for them to spend time together, and Hank gets something nice to eat out of the deal. Connor also enjoys sampling the ingredients. Sometimes he imagines Hank dipping a finger into whatever they’re making, offering it to him to sample…

Connor flushes hotly, turning away from Hank to hide the blue on his cheeks. He hurries toward the kitchen, busying himself with opening cabinets at random. Hank comes up behind him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You good?” he asks. Connor nods, not trusting himself to speak. What was he thinking?

“Okay…” Hank says, clearly not buying it. “Well, what did you have in mind for tonight?”

A safe topic. Connor clears his throat, despite not needing to.

“I was thinking just some pasta tonight. It’s been a long week, I don’t think either of us are up for doing anything too complicated. We have the ingredients to make our own sauce, that should be enough.”

Hank nods. “Sounds good to me.” 

“I’ll get the pasta ready, do you want to make the sauce?” Connor asks.

“Sure thing, boss,” Hank says. “You got a recipe?”

Connor nods, absentmindedly pulling up a recipe and displaying it on his palm, holding it out to Hank.

“Christ, Con, this writing is fuckin’ tiny,” Hank mutters, gripping Connor’s wrist without thought and pulling his hand closer to his face. He squints for a moment before admitting defeat. “Hang on.” Hank exits the room, leaving Connor perplexed. He could have made the writing bigger…

Hank’s back less than a minute later, but there is something different about him now. Connor’s mouth falls open into a silent ‘oh’ as he takes him in.

He knew, of course, that Hank’s vision was far from perfect, but he had always assumed he was too stubborn to do anything about it. He was wrong. Hank’s got glasses.

They’re rather plain, black and rectangular, but they somehow accentuate his face perfectly. Connor has always thought Hank was handsome, but this… this is something else.

“...What?” says Hank, sounding self-conscious. “I know, I know, they’re bad, I look like a dick.” Connor still doesn’t respond, and Hank reaches up, making to take them off. “Jesus, if they’re that bad I just won’t wear ‘em,” he mutters.

“No!” Connor finds his voice, surprising both of them. “They look… very nice on you.” Hank snorts.

“Yeah, right.”

Connor takes a step closer. “They do. You look very handsome.” Hank sputters, a flush blooming across his face.”

“Connor, you can’t just say shit like that,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “People will think…”

“What will people think?” Connor asks, confused at the way this conversation is playing out.

“Fuck, I dunno, that you’re interested in me or something.” Hank turns away, muttering the last bit of the sentence, flushing even darker. “And that’s fuckin’ stupid, how could you ever-”

“I am interested in you,” Connor blurts out, blinking at him. Hank chokes on nothing.

“And you can’t just say shit like _that,_ either. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Connor frowns. “I’m saying I’m interested in you. I don’t know how to say it any plainer.”

“Yeah, yeah, you find me interesting cause I’m a human, that’s not the same as… as…”

Connor takes another step closer, reaching slowly for Hank’s hand. When the other man doesn’t snatch it away, he wraps his slim fingers around Hank’s.

“ _That_ is not what I’m saying. While I do find you and your humanity very interesting, that’s not what I mean at this particular moment.”

Hank’s eyes widen behind his glasses, staring at their joined hands in disbelief. 

“I - what?” Hank manages, seeming lost for words.

“What I’m trying to say,” Connor starts, holding his gaze, “is that I am _interested_ in you. _You._ ”

“How?” Hank breathes. “You could have anyone, look at you-”

“I don’t want anyone but you,” Connor says. “You are my dearest friend, the person I care about most in this world. You helped me find my humanity. You made me a person, and now I get to make my own choices. And I choose you. If you’re open to that.”

Hank blinks rapidly, and Connor can see that his eyes are wet behind his glasses. “What the fuck.”

“Are you interested in me, Hank?” Connor asks, rocking back and forth on his feet. His analysis of Hank and his behaviors when they are together leads him to believe that, yes, his feelings are reciprocated, but what if he got it wrong?

Hank huffs out an incredulous laugh. “Am I interested in you? Jesus Christ, how could I not be?” Excitement thrums through Connor’s chassis at the confirmation, and he closes the space between them, wrapping Hank in a tentative hug.

Hank freezes for a moment, but then his arms come up and wrap around Connor in return, holding him close. Connor trills, burying his face against Hank’s broad chest, nuzzling his cheek against the softness of his worn shirt.

“Fuck, you’re cute,” Hank mutters, still sounding like he can’t believe this is happening. Connor smiles to himself, glad that Hank finds him appealing. “Should we… talk about this?”

Connor hums, not wanting to let go of Hank. “I suppose that might be a good idea.”

They end up in the living room. Hank sits down at his usual spot, and Connor hesitates, eyeing the opposite end of the couch where he normally sits before looking to the space beside Hank. Hank rolls his eyes.

“Get your ass over here,” he says, motioning for Connor to sit beside him. Connor flushes but sits down, curling right into Hank’s space. Hank wraps an arm around him, and Connor rests his head on his shoulder.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Hank asks. Connor hums.

“I’m not sure. I think I found you attractive even before I truly deviated. I’ve had a hard time admitting this to myself. But being around you… living in the same space as you… has just made the feelings harder to ignore. I know you don’t always think much of yourself, Hank, but I think the world of you.”

Hank exhales, turning away, unable to meet Connor’s gaze. “How can you just say shit like that?”

Connor frowns, perplexed. “It’s the truth.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Connor says, leaning closer. He cups Hank’s cheek with his hand, turning his head, staring into his eyes. “I like you.”

Hank sucks in a sharp breath, gazing back at him. “God, how’d I get so lucky?”

Connor blinks up at him, lips slightly parted.

“Look, Connor…” Hank starts, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I’m really bad at this shit. I’m not good with words, and everything I wanna say just sounds stupid. Can I… can I show you how I feel?”

“Show me how?” Connor breathes. Hank leans in, eyes dragging purposefully down Connor’s face, stopping at his lips. He glances back up, and Connor takes the hint.

“Oh,” he whispers, his lips curling up into a small smile. “I would be okay with that.”

“Yeah?” Hank murmurs, tilting his head as he leans closer.

“Yeah,” Connor parrots back, and then Hank’s lips are on his.

Connor’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a quiet mewl, almost overwhelmed. He’s never been kissed before, and it’s better than he could have ever imagined. He considers downloading some kissing protocols so as to not disappoint Hank, but he decides this is something he wants to learn on his own.

Hank seems to have enough kissing skill for the both of them, anyway, Connor decides, as the human parts his lips, teasing his tongue along the seam of Connor’s mouth. Connor gasps, and Hank takes advantage of that, licking into his mouth. Connor moans.

Hank pulls back in surprise, staring at him. “Fuck.”

Connor raises a hand to his lips, staring back at Hank.

“I apologize,” he says, “my mouth is… very sensitive. It’s made to sample and analyze. It wasn’t made for this.”

“Are you okay?” Hank asks, pushing his glasses back up. Connor nods, eager to continue.

“Yes. It… it feels amazing.” Hank grins at him.

“You wanna keep goin’?” Connor nods, eager for more.

“All right,” Hank says, leaning back in and capturing Connor’s lips again. Connor parts his lips without prompting this time, and Hank’s tongue is in his mouth right away. Connor moans again, excess analysis fluid flooding his mouth, wanting to sample Hank. He traces his tongue over the gap between Hank’s front teeth, whining, wanting to be closer to him. His analysis of Hank’s saliva shows up on his HUD even with his eyes closed, and he stores it in a protected area of his hard drive.

Connor shudders, and before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s crawling onto Hank’s lap, straddling his thick thighs. Hank breaks the kiss, looking surprised.

“Woah,” he murmurs, resting his hands on Connor’s hips. “Easy, there.”

“I’m sorry, is this too much?” Connor asks, shifting on his lap as if to slide back off. Hank holds him tight.

“Not too much for me, sweetheart,” Hank says, eyes full of want. “But what about you?”

_Software Error_

_Sweet#hart_

_Sweet#heart_

_Sweetheart._

Connor’s software shorts out for a split second at the pet name, and he gives Hank an affectionate smile. 

"I'm good. Please, continue." Hank chuckles. 

"Yeah, okay," he replies, leaning back in. But he presses a kiss to Connor's jaw this time, making him gasp. 

"Oh," Connor breathes, feeling the softness of Hank's lips and the scratchiness of his beard. His skin melts away underneath Hank's mouth, but Hank just presses his tongue flat against the exposed plastic, giving it a slow lick. Connor shivers. 

"Hank, more," he begs, not entirely sure what he's asking for. And yet, Hank delivers. 

"Anything you want," Hank rumbles, trailing kisses over his jaw and down his neck, making Connor lose all his composure. He writhes in Hank's lap as Hank presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his throat, and Connor moans loud enough to wake Sumo when Hank sucks the sensitive synthskin there. 

The large dog lifts his head, staring right at them, and Connor suddenly feels self-conscious. 

"Hank, Sumo…" Connor starts, trailing off into another moan when Hank licks a long stripe up his neck. 

Hank pauses, glancing over at the dog. Sumo tilts his head and Hank laughs, brushing some of his hair from his face. 

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" Hank asks, breath warm in Connor's ear. Connor shudders, and Hank seems to catch himself, realizing what he's implying. 

"We don't have to, you know, do anything tonight," he says, losing some of his confident demeanor. 

Connor holds his gaze. "Can we go to your bedroom?" 

Hank's face splits into an uncertain grin as he nods, shifting Connor off of his lap. The two of them make their way down the hall, and Hank closes the bedroom door behind them. Connor looks around the room, circuits humming with excitement. 

He's been in Hank's room before, of course, but never in this capacity. Never as… a lover. 

"Sorry about the mess," Hank says, scratching the back of his head. "If I'd known this was how the night was gonna end I woulda cleaned up a little." 

Connor smiles as he takes everything in, the clothes on the floor, the unmade bed, the overflowing hamper. He finds it doesn't bother him. The room _is_ tidier than what he's seen before. Hank has been picking things up. Slowly, but surely. He turns, focusing his gaze on the other man. 

"It's not a problem," he says, moving closer. Hank reaches out, linking their fingers together, giving Connor a serious look. 

"Listen," he says, glancing at the bed before his eyes flick back to Connor. "I meant it when I said we didn't have to do anything tonight. I don't wanna… push you, or anything. I know this is probably all new to you, and-" 

"And there's no one I'd like to explore this with other than you," Connor says, finishing Hank's thought with one of his own. Hank flushes, looking like he still can't believe this is happening. 

"God, Connor," Hank sighs, squeezing his fingers. "This is - I never thought -" 

"I know," Connor soothes, rubbing his thumb over Hank's knuckles.

"Are you…" Hank trails off, seeming unsure of how to phrase what he wants to say. He gestures vaguely toward Connor's lap with his free hand. "Can you…?" 

Connor gives him a gentle smile. "I was built to integrate with humans. Fully." 

Hank coughs, a faint flush on his cheeks. "Well, good. I mean -" 

Connor laughs. "It is good. I want to be intimate with you. Fully." 

"Jesus Christ," Hank mutters, unable to hold back a grin. "You'd really want that? With me?" 

Connor nods, taking a step closer and raising up onto his toes, pecking a kiss to Hank's whiskery cheek. "More than you can possibly imagine." 

Hank groans, turning his head and catching Connor's lips in a kiss before he can pull away. Connor moans into his mouth, pressing their bodies together, desperate to feel more of Hank. 

"Fuck," Hank gasps between kisses, hands sliding down Connor’s waist to rest on his hips. “C’mere.” Connor clutches at his shirt, whining against his lips.

“Hank…” he breathes, tangling a hand into his hair. Hank drags his tongue along the roof of his mouth, lighting up Connor’s sensors and making him shudder. They kiss for a long time, until Hank pulls back to catch his breath, panting against Connor’s lips.

“Fuck,” he says again, squeezing Connor’s hips. Connor expels hot puffs of air from his mouth, trying to cool down. 

“Bed?” he asks, and Hank’s eyes go wide.

“You sure?” he murmurs, giving him another gentle kiss. Connor hums with contentment before nodding.

“I want you,” he whispers, tracing his fingertips over Hank’s chest. Hank exhales.

“God, Connor…” Hank says, grunting when Connor finds one of his nipples under his shirt, rubbing a thumb over it through the fabric. “Oh.”

“Do you like that?” Connor asks, and Hank sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yeah, honey. I do.”

Connor hums, considering this, before sliding his hands down Hank’s torso, working them under the hem of his shirt and lifting it up. Hank presses his lips together as Connor shoves his shirt up, glancing away.

“I know, I’m not much to look at-”

Connor cuts him off, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the center of the large tattoo on his chest. “Don’t say that,” he says, smoothing a hand over the swell of Hank’s stomach, marveling as the gray hair tickles his fingers. His hand slides up, towards Hank’s chest, unable to help himself. Hank is… beautiful.

“You’re incredible,” Connor breathes, fascinated with Hank’s body. The gray hair covering his torso, the tattoo that spans across his chest, how very _human_ he is. “Get on the bed?”

Hank exhales before he nods, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Connor. “How do you want me?”

Connor shudders at Hank’s words, biting his bottom lip. “Take your shirt off.” Hank hesitates for a moment before he starts unbuttoning his shirt, and Connor’s eyes devour each inch of his chest that’s revealed to him. Hank shrugs it off, tossing it to the side, and Connor moves forward, giving Hank a gentle nudge.

“On your back,” he says, and Hank lays down. Connor’s on him in an instant, crawling into bed with him, snuggling up against his body.

“You are so handsome,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Hank’s neck. Hank laughs.

“You really think that, don’t you?” he asks, sounding incredulous. Connor nods.

“I really do.” He kisses down Hank’s neck, being careful not to leave a mark, not wanting to make things difficult for Hank at work. He moves lower, and then he’s mouthing at Hank’s chest, pressing his tongue flat against a nipple. Hank gasps, and Connor moans. He can feel Hank’s nipple pebbling under his tongue, and he licks at it, examining the texture, analyzing everything.

“Fuck, Connor,” Hank groans, one hand sliding down Connor’s spine, resting on the small of his back. Connor wraps his lips around Hank’s nipple, sucking, tonguing at the raised bud. He throws a leg over Hank’s, pressing against his thigh.

“Oh, shit,” Hank says, sliding his hand lower, grabbing at Connor’s ass. Connor moans, sucking harder, rocking his hips against Hank. His hand slides down Hank’s stomach, finding the buckle of his belt, running a finger over it.

“Connor,” Hank sighs, throwing his head back. Connor hums around his nipple, and Hank gives his ass a squeeze, making him moan. “Baby, let me take care of you.”

Connor looks up at him, excitement running through his circuitry. He considers it, and as much as he’d like to continue his exploration, there’s something very enticing about the idea of Hank taking care of him.

“Okay,” he whispers, and Hank grins at him, pulling him in for a quick kiss. 

“Can I undress you?” Hank asks, and Connor nods. Hank sits up, gently urging Connor onto his back, and then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Connor watches Hank’s fingers undo each button before Hank pulls his shirt off of him, throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the room.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Hank exhales, eyes running down his exposed torso. “You’re gorgeous.”

Connor makes a pleased whirring noise, enjoying Hank’s heavy gaze. Hank runs a reverent hand up Connor’s stomach, over his ribs, resting it on top of the indentation of his thirium pump. Connor’s sure Hank can feel it beating hard against his chassis. 

“What do you want, honey?” Hank asks, and Connor shudders.

“I want you inside of me.”

Hank groans, sliding his hand up, thumbing at one of Connor’s nipples. “You sure?”

Connor gives him an enthusiastic nod, holding his gaze. “I… I’ve thought about this a lot.”

Hank inhales, his pupils blown wide. “Oh yeah?”

Connor nods again. “Yes.”

Hank kneels between Connor’s spread legs, running his hands up his thighs. “I’ve thought about it, too.”

Connor exhales through his nose, gazing up at Hank. “What do you think about?” he whispers.

Hank chuckles. “I think about seeing you spread out on my bed.” He rubs his hand over Connor’s lower stomach before popping the button on his jeans. “I think about undressing you like this, taking my time, seeing all of you.” He palms Connor’s erection through his jeans, giving him a grin. “You hard for me, honey?”

Connor nods, a whimper caught in his throat. He rocks his hips up, wanting more contact. “What else?”

Hank hums, slowly pulling his zipper down. “I think about… opening you up with my fingers, hearing all those beautiful noises you’d make, going nice and slow.”

"Oh," Connor moans, already preconstructing it. An alert flashes in his vision, his lubrication protocol kicking in. Hank pulls his jeans down his hips. 

"I think about how tight you'd be around my cock when I slide into you," Hank breathes as Connor lifts his hips, allowing him to pull his jeans off. "Ever had a dick inside of you before?" 

Connor shivers, shaking his head. He's fairly certain Hank knows the answer to that question, but he plays along, his voice breathy when he whispers, "No. Never…. lieutenant." Hank groans, and Connor's glad his rank hits differently in bed. He loves this, loves how confident Hank is right now. "I… I thought about it. Thought about you." 

Hank grins. "Yeah? Did you touch yourself, wishing it was me?" Connor bites his lip and nods. 

"I've masturbated to the thought of you," he admits. Hank flushes, breaking eye contact for a second. 

"Jesus," he mutters, glancing back at him. "You're too much." 

"Keep talking," Connor begs, wanting to hear Hank's voice. Hank's grin is back, his face still red. 

"This is okay?" he asks, dragging a finger along the elastic of Connor's briefs. Connor shivers. 

"I love it. Tell me more." 

Hank hums, eyeing the tent in Connor's underwear. He plants a gentle kiss on his lower stomach. 

"I think you're beautiful, Con. And I wanna take good care of you. You deserve the best." 

Connor runs his fingers through Hank's hair. "You _are_ the best." 

Hank smiles, looking a bit bashful, kissing his stomach again. "Christ." He nuzzles his face against Connor's arousal, mouthing at him through his underwear. Connor gasps, arching up off the bed. 

"Hank!" 

"You like that, honey?" Hank breathes. "Want me to suck you off?" 

Connor trembles, imagining it. Hank's mouth on him, around him… 

"I- I want-" 

Hank slowly slides his briefs off of him, pulling them down his legs. He inhales a sharp breath, staring at him. "Jesus, look at you." 

Connor flushes blue, laid totally bare before Hank. Hank looks entranced by him, eyes roaming over his body. 

"Gorgeous," Hank says. Connor spreads his legs a bit more. 

"Touch me." 

Hank doesn't hesitate, licking the palm of his hand, wrapping it around Connor's erection. Connor whines, thrusting his hips up and moaning. 

"Look at that," Hank says, giving him a slow tug, watching his synthetic precome leak from the head of his cock. Connor whines again, and Hank continues stroking him, slowly jerking him off. 

"How's that feel, baby?" Hank asks as Connor writhes on the mattress. 

"Hank, Hank…" 

"Good boy," Hank breathes, and Connor's hips jerk, pleasure sensors lighting up at the praise. 

"Hank, if you don't stop, I'm going to-" 

Hank lets go of his erection, kissing his hipbone. "Not yet, sweetheart. Not until I'm inside of you." 

Connor whimpers, feeling a trickle of lubricant leak out of him. 

Hank squeezes his thigh before leaning back, undoing his belt. Connor watches, anticipation humming through his wiring, resisting the urge to touch himself. 

Hank pushes his jeans down, and Connor's eyes go wide as he sees his arousal tenting his boxers. His scanners tell him that Hank is larger than average. He pants. 

"See somethin' you like?" Hank teases, and Connor nods, analysis fluid rushing to his mouth. 

"You still doin’ okay?” Hank pauses to ask, watching Connor’s face and LED. Connor blinks up at him.

“I’ll be doing even better when you’re naked,” he tells him, and Hank chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, shoving his boxers down, freeing his erection. Connor whimpers.

“Oh.”

Hank is… big. Long and thick, and leaking precome. Connor wants to taste him. Hank watches him, and then wraps a hand around his cock, giving himself a few slow strokes. He thumbs the precome off, holding out his hand to Connor.

“You want that, don’t you?” he breathes, and Connor can’t answer as he grabs Hank’s wrist, already licking his thumb. He sucks the digit into his mouth, moaning around it. The analysis pops up in his HUD, and he moans again, unable to get enough.

“Christ,” Hank says, his dick twitching at the sight. Connor drags his tongue over Hank’s thumb, tasting his fingerprint. Then he finally pulls off, wiping the excess analysis fluid from his chin, staring up at Hank while still holding onto his wrist. They’re both breathing heavily. Hank takes his glasses off, putting them on the nightstand.

Connor’s leaking lubricant onto the sheets, so turned on it almost hurts. “Hank, I…” He spreads his legs further, a clear invitation. Hank glances down, watching as Connor directs his hand to where he wants it most. “Please.”

Hank rubs his hand up his thigh, looking surprised when it comes away slick with Connor’s arousal. “Holy shit,” he breathes. “Are you wet?” Connor nods, shifting his hips.

“It’s a feature to make sexual intercourse easier,” he replies, voice slightly distorted by static. “You don’t… you don’t even really need to prepare me. I can take it.”

Hank stares at him, his eyes full of something that Connor can’t quite put his finger on. “Oh, sweetheart…”

“What is it?” Connor asks. He can tell something is bothering the other man.

“Why’d they give you all these features?” Hank says, using his free hand to stroke Connor’s cheek. Connor nuzzles his face into his palm.

“It could have been beneficial to my mission,” Connor says, kissing the center of his hand. Hank seems saddened by this fact.

“Baby…” he murmurs, leaning down and giving him a soft kiss. “I would have never let anything like that happen to you.” Connor hums against his mouth, thinking it over. It’s true, Hank has always been overly-protective of him, even before he deviated.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Connor tries to assure him, not wanting Hank to feel bad. “I was a machine, it wouldn’t have affected me.” It seems to be the wrong thing to say.

“That’s bullshit,” Hank replies, although his voice is still so gentle. “There’s always been something alive about you.” He rests his hand over Connor’s thirium pump, feeling the steady beat beneath his fingers. Connor places his hand on top of Hank’s.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Sometimes, I doubt that myself, but it helps to know that you’ve always believed in me.” Hank gives him a soft smile, and Connor smiles back.

“And, you know, this isn’t part of my mission now,” he says. “Well, not one that Cyberlife gave me, anyway.” Hank seems unable to hold back a laugh at that, and Connor congratulates himself for lightening the mood again. “So, will you please…?”

Hank rolls his eyes, smiling the whole time. “Yeah. Okay.”

He runs his hand back down Connor’s body, and Connor mewls, arching off the bed. Hank’s hand slips between his legs, and then a finger is ghosting over his entrance, making him moan. “Aaah, Hank…”

“Shh, you're okay,” Hank soothes, circling his finger around the tight ring of synthetic muscle. Connor’s eyes flutter closed, and he grips the sheets in his fists, trying to ground himself. Already he feels like he’s losing control.

“Good?” Hank murmurs, slowly working the tip of his finger into him. Connor gasps and nods, wanting to push down, to take Hank in deeper, but he forces himself to be patient. He knows Hank will make it worth his while.

“There we go,” Hank breathes, inching further into him. Connor shudders. Hank’s fingers are so much thicker than his own. Hank’s free hand rubs gentle circles on his stomach, and Connor bites back the urge to again tell him that he doesn’t need this. He’s finding he’s enjoying it very much.

“Atta boy,” Hank says, and Connor lights up at the positive feedback. Hank pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment. “How’s that?”

“Mmm, so good,” Connor sighs. He opens his eyes again, wanting to watch Hank. Hank grins at him.

“You ever fucked yourself like this?” Hank asks, his voice casual as he slides his finger back out. Connor whimpers.

“Y-yes,” he admits, shuddering as Hank pushes back into him. “It didn’t feel like this, though.”

Hank hums, pulling out again before working two fingers into him. Connor gasps, and Hank groans, scissoring his fingers to stretch him open. “Christ, you’re so wet.”

Connor overrides the protocol that would make him automatically adjust to whatever is inside of him, wanting to feel how Hank works him open. Hank crooks his fingers, and Connor tenses, knowing what he's searching for. "Hank, I- aah!" 

Hank grins as he finds the little sensor inside of him, meant to act as a human prostate. "That's it." 

"Ohhhh," Connor sighs, rolling his hips as Hank massages the little sensor, relentless in his technique. 

"Think you're ready for more?" Hank rumbles. 

"Please," Connor gasps, wanting to feel full. Hank scissors his fingers once more before removing them, pausing before he begins to work three into him. Connor moans, loud and uninhibited, as he stretches around his thick digits. 

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he pants, making Hank groan. 

"That good, huh?" 

Connor nods, blinking rapidly to clear the software errors from his vision. 

"I… I've never been this full before," he says, voice glitching as he clenches around Hank's fingers. Hank slides his fingers in and out, making Connor moan and flush as wet, obscene sounds fill the room. 

"Just wait until I get my cock in you, baby," Hank purrs, and Connor decides he can't wait any longer. 

"Now. Please." 

Hank pauses, considering him. "Yeah?" 

"Please," Connor pants again. Hank pulls his fingers out, leaving Connor feeling empty. He uses some of his extra lubricant to slick up his cock before settling in between Connor's legs, resting in the cradle of his hips. 

"Okay, honey," Hank says, pecking a soft kiss to his mouth. The head of his cock nudges against Connor's entrance, making him nearly vibrate with anticipation. He wraps his legs around Hank, urging him on. His arms loop around Hank's neck, pulling him close for one more kiss. 

"Make love to me," he whispers against his lips when they part, and Hank exhales a reverent breath. 

"I gotcha," Hank murmurs, and then he begins to push carefully into Connor. 

Connor gasps, squeezing his legs around Hank as he inches his way in. "Oh, oh…" 

Hank bites his lip, looking like he's trying hard to keep his composure. "Christ, you're tight." 

"I- I can adjust-" 

"No fuckin' way," Hank pants, bottoming out with a groan. "You feel incredible." 

Incredible doesn't even begin to describe how Connor feels right now, filled with Hank's impressive length, stretched open to the limit. Hank presses against all of his internal sensors, making alerts pop up in his vision, making pleasure rush through his wiring. 

"Hank," he manages to moan, voice laced with static. Hank hasn't even begun to move yet, and already Connor feels close. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes. Hank looks concerned.

“Fuck, are you okay?” he asks. Connor nods, even as he blinks and the tears spill over. Hank kisses them away.

“I’m wonderful. This is wonderful. It’s… so much. But it’s good.” 

"Oh, Connor," Hank sighs, giving his hips an experimental roll. Connor gasps, feeling the drag of Hank inside of him. 

"You good?" Hank asks, and Connor just nods, unable to form a coherent response. 

Hank leans in and kisses him as he starts to move. Connor whimpers against his lips, and Hank pulls back, trailing kisses over his jaw. 

"You feel so good," Hank tells him. Connor runs his hands over Hank's back, trying to find his voice. Hank gives him a soft look, seeming to understand. 

"I'm not gonna last," Hank says, rocking into him. Connor moans. He's glad he's not the only one who can't keep it together. 

Hank leans in, pressing a kiss to the freckle behind Connor's ear. "Does that feel good, baby?" he breathes. Connor shudders and whines, and Hank starts to move faster. 

"It's - it's -" 

Hank continues to thrust in and out of him, making pleasure spark throughout his body. Connor drags his nails down Hank's back, leaving scratches behind. 

"Harder," Connor manages to pant. Hank groans. 

"Christ, you're gonna kill me," he says, grabbing onto Connor's hips and giving a sharp thrust. Connor cries out as Hank continues to pound into him. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall registers vaguely in one of his subprocesses. 

"Fuck, fuck, Connor," Hank groans, losing some of his rhythm. "I'm close." 

Connor exhales a hot puff of air, finding his voice. "Me too." 

Hank holds onto Connor's hips, using the leverage to fuck into him harder. "Can I come inside of you?" 

Connor moans, nodding eagerly. "Please." The friction of Hank’s stomach against his cock is driving him wild. Errors pop up in his vision, and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Hank pants. Connor throws his head back, and Hank presses kisses to his neck.

“Yes, I’m-” 

He bites his lip, and Hank gives another sharp thrust. That's all it takes to tip Connor over the edge. His orgasm almost overwhelms him, and he shakes apart underneath Hank, coming harder than he ever has before. He moans Hank’s name, getting lost in the feeling. 

"Oh, fuck," Hank says as Connor clenches around him. Two more thrusts and then he comes with a groan, rolling his hips and burying himself deep inside of Connor. 

Connor pants, and Hank plants kisses all over his neck as he comes back down. "Connor…." 

Connor turns his head to catch his lips and Hank hums against his mouth, licking lazily into it. Connor moans, feeling extra sensitive in the afterglow. He tangles a hand into Hank's hair, and they kiss for a long time, still joined. 

Hank gives Connor's bottom lip a soft nip before pulling back, panting against his mouth. "Jesus, Connor." 

Connor licks at his mouth, unable to get enough of the feeling on his tongue. Hank chuckles, shifting on top of him before pulling out. 

Connor whines at the empty feeling he's left with. He can feel Hank's release leaking out of him. 

"You good, sweetheart?" Hank asks, and Connor nods, pulling him in for another kiss. Now that he knows what kissing Hank is like, it’s hard to stop. 

"Lemme get you cleaned up,” Hank says when they part, crawling out of bed. Connor runs his eyes over Hank’s naked body, pausing to stare at his spend painted across Hank’s torso. Hank laughs and shakes his head. “One sec, honey.”

Hank leaves the room, and Connor hears him enter the bathroom and turn on the sink. He stretches, exhaling a long breath, resisting the urge to get up and change the sheets. 

Hank reenters, carrying a warm cloth. He wipes Connor down, then throws the cloth in the direction of the hamper before he gets back into bed with him. Connor rolls over, out of the wet spot, throwing an arm over Hank’s torso and resting his head on his chest.

“Thank you for that, Hank,” he says, and Hank huffs out an incredulous breath.

“I should be thanking you, baby,” Hank replies, running a hand up and down his back. “You were incredible.”

Connor presses a smile against Hank’s chest. It’s getting late now, and Hank muffles a yawn in Connor’s hair. They’re quiet for a long time, basking in each other’s company before Hank speaks again. “Hey, Con?”

“Hmm?” Connor replies, tracing a finger over Hank’s chest. 

“I think I’m gonna wear my glasses more often.” 

Connor laughs. "Please do." 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gaydeviants) for future threads and general hankcon lunacy!!!!! i think ill write more in this universe, ive got some ideas!!!


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